


Home

by 0fsilver



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: M/M, Not Beta Read, Spoilers, mild violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-09
Updated: 2015-11-09
Packaged: 2018-04-30 20:08:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5178017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0fsilver/pseuds/0fsilver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tucker has never held the delusion that Washington and he were meant to be anything more.<br/>From the beginning, the first time they saw one another, it was a sort of dare to see who goes first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home

In their search for Church, or Epsilon as it may be, Tucker could honestly say he didn’t like the man. It was strictly personal. Here was someone who tried to kill his friends, who once threatened the last remnants of Church. He didn’t care at the time what Washington, or even Carolina had suffered. All he knew was these soldiers were once puppets of everything which had ruined his life. His thoughts were purely selfish as he tended to Caboose, kept the man focused and safe as best he could in the absence of their friend.  
  
Tucker often sat up at night along their journey. Watching Agent Carolina exile herself from the group while Caboose fluttered around Agent Washington like some concerned moth. It made him uneasy their naive friend couldn’t see the danger the man was. Regardless of what happened on the mountain Tucker couldn’t find it in himself to trust the Agent.

Carolina was another story. He couldn’t begin to understand her purpose. A woman who could scream without making a single sound. The Freelancers, the war haunting her footsteps like a shadow. Tucker felt he held a better understanding than the rest-at least he hoarded information long before anyone would believe him (still slightly bitter about that). But he trudged on alongside the Reds and envied their team a bit more than he probably should. Watched with a bitterness how they teased and laughed and threw insults like brothers. Watched Sarge carry his men with unspoken trust while they never strayed from each other. Never lied or betrayed more than Grif hiding food or Simmons keeping extra bullets from their trigger happy leader.

  
In a way, Tucker began to hold a grudge against Church the longer this went on. He recalled how things were and knew better than to hope for a return. He knew they would never stand side by side again, bitch about the Reds, the heat, or anything that came to mind. Epsilon proved that. Tucker’s best friend was gone and a copy replaced him.  
  
No. A Freelancer replaced him. Wore his colors and answered to “Church” when Caboose got confused. It drove Tucker out of their camp sites, or as far as he could get to be free of the sappy scene. The new “Blue Team” stitched together with what they could find. Washington spoke to him with a certain unease. They never made eye contact past small glances when they believed the other wasn’t looking. Tucker felt like some dog on a lead between the two Freelancers and he couldn’t actually understand why the Reds were here. Church wasn’t their friend. They weren’t the missing link to whatever revenge Carolina needed.

Hell. He didn’t even know why Washington was here…

They found Church. Epsilon. Things should have settled back into place. There was a hope inside Tucker he didn’t want to acknowledge. Thought for just a brief moment maybe Church would wave off the Freelancers and it might return to normal. 

Of course not.

Of course he attached to Carolina. Somehow found a connection with the anger she kept so close to her heart. 

It was almost strange, seeing his own disconnect on Washington’s features. Probably the first time he felt sorry for the guy, and maybe a little justified. Now he knew what it was like to lose something and Tucker felt better about his bitterness.

They were camped in simulation wreckage. A base which might have held soldiers just as disillusioned as them once, barely standing. Church…No. Epsilon with Carolina, sorting through fragment memory, the whole conversation dominated by their unwillingness to share. Tucker couldn’t swallow his annoyance. Needed to step off into the dark despite the Agent’s warning that they shouldn’t stray. The Reds let him, none raising more than a concerned look or curious glance. Tucker wasn’t Red, and he was beginning to doubt whether he was even Blue? If they never really mattered, what does that say about him?

He missed Junior. Missed their work abroad and was a bit annoyed that he couldn’t contact him at free will. Between needing to conserve technology and their spotty “housing situation” contacting his son was growing a bit difficult. Junior understood, and it’s not like the kid couldn’t take care of himself. He just hoped he hadn’t swallowed another basketball since last they spoke. The memory made him happy at least.  
  
“What are you doing?”  
  
Of course Washington’s voice brought all that crashing down. His sanctity among ruins violated.  
  
“Oh I’m sorry, can’t a guy take a walk without getting court-martialed?" 

Snapped a bit too readily. About had enough with these Freelancers and their nosy personalities. 

Washington never left his uniform, at least not for long. So it didn’t surprise him that the man remained fully armored behind him. It really burned Tucker in all the wrong ways that he had to speak to a helmet most times. Even Carolina went without just to get her glares across. 

"So you’re ok?”  
  
“What?” What?  
  
Washington motioned towards Tucker as if to rewind to moments ago.  
  
“You walked off, I just wanted to make sure you were alright.” Tucker hated how low Washington’s voice sounded. Tired and beat down as he felt probably. Nosy ass, but regardless…  
  
“Yea I’m fine.” Shoulder jerked to shrug and kept eyes at broken debris on the floor. It all felt so unnatural. “I’m pretty used to needing to take breaks from this sort of bullshit.”   
  
“You don’t seem to like me very much.” Washington spoke up and nearly caused Tucker to laugh. Of course laughing would be insulting and rude, but he figured best not to really push his luck. Especially when he was probably out of sight of anyone he might trust to tell if Washington killed him right now.  
  
“Congratulations. You solved the mystery.” Sneered and couldn’t help but wonder what expression the Freelancer was holding beneath the helmet. “But we don’t have to like one another to get this mission done right?”  
  
“No I just,”  
  
“Good. Then unless you need something…”  
  
It fell quiet. Only the distant crack of the Reds joking and the low whistle of a soft wind filled the space between them. Tucker felt locked in that moment too long, imagining Washington was probably frowning at him. But who cared really?  
  
“I think you’re sort of spoiled.”  
  
“Excuse me?” Whelp. If the man wanted trouble…  
  
“Look,” Washington dared to step closer, fixing an unseen stare right through Tucker. “I understand what it’s like. To be tossed around as if your life isn’t much more than a playing card. Ok? I get it.” Tucker opened his mouth to protest but without a word Washington silenced him. Letting the air cool his fevered instinct as the other continued. “I know you don’t like this. You don’t trust us and frankly, I’m surprised anyone is willing to help. But you Reds and Blues at least still have each other.” Paused. Recollecting himself and Tucker could sense more to his words. "I hope you get that? At least you still get to see them, regardless of what has happened. Your team is still here and together. If nothing else, be happy with that.”  
  
There was something exceptionally painful in Washington’s words highlighted by the loud whoop of Caboose’s laughter in the distance. The shape of his friends lingering against the horizon like dancing shadows and very real heartbeats. He felt a bit like a kid chastised for their gluttony.  
  
“It’s not like it was.” Muttered beneath shamed breath.  
  
“No. And I’m sorry. I just don’t want you to think it’s all over. You don’t deserve that.”

It was almost a nice comment, left behind as Washington nodded towards the camp and headed back himself. Left Tucker with something to think about. Not that his own fears and experiences were muted in the thought of Washington’s own. Simply. He did still have more before him than some.

It was a small turning point he could say. They noticed a lightened air between them. Called him Wash because Agent Washington took too long and somehow pissed him off. Plus Tucker could yell “WASH” when the man got crabby and Carolina was being a jerk.Though, it did shift perspective there too. Suddenly he paid more attention to the two Freelancers when they spoke privately. Huddled together with all their mysteries kept beneath lock and key. Tucker began to feel sympathy there. Even when Church acted like a dick. And when Carolina and he left on their own: he still felt responsible for their journey. 

Anger didn’t make him stop caring about his friends.  
  
Wash too. Could tell. They all wanted a home, but realizing the Freelancers didn’t know /how/ anymore made a huge difference. How do you settle down when your last home is still burning in the corner of your mind? Damn. It was easier when he sort of hated them.  
  
Anger was replaced by guilt. Shifting to a humble desire to help, if he could.   
That’s where things began to change. When Freelancer was brought down and they were praised as “heroes” and congratulated by the world. When he could send the photo of himself and his friends to his son and tell Junior he’d be heading home soon. They each had plans. This idea of returning from a war that was never actually theirs. It seemed, pretty damn dreamy. Church even making eye-rolling comments on how to spend their time back. Carolina actually chuckling in her restrained and dignified way. Their fearless leader walking with less weight to her shoulders.  
  
Their ship carrying through space, Tucker had to take an evening stroll. Wanted to appreciate working lights and civilization. Maybe he could be recognized from the newspaper and someone would buy him a drink?   
  
Of course, stumbling across Wash along the way was a surprise. The ex-Freelancer hovering by a port window, staring off into space as if expecting something…almost hurt. Actually no. It did hurt. Tucker felt a sudden understanding of every chick flick he’s ever seen with a puppy standing in the rain.   
  
Inviting Washington back to his room was even more of a surprise. Not real sure why he did that. He shared with Caboose. Which. Seemed to be the way of things now. But with Carolina wanting some alone time he knew Caboose was running the ship with Church locked in. Probably driving the Ai to mourn losing the ability to drink. It was actually a pretty funny thought, but it did however mean they were alone in his room. Together. The two of them.  
  
“So um,” Tucker slapped a fist against a palm, awkward and unsure while Wash just stood center of the humble room. “What are you going to do when you get home?” No Freelancers, no SIM soldiers. They were going home, finally and without delay. He’d assume Wash would be just as excited.  
  
“I haven’t been home in…” Tucker felt himself regret asking judging by the dark look in Wash’s eyes. “I was in an early enlistment program.” He shrugs, avoiding an answer without delay. “What about you?”  
  
“I…y'know,” Great, how does one respond to that? “My kid is waiting for me.”

“Junior?" 

"Yea, he’s. Great. Awesome.” Can’t help but smile when talking about his kid. “Want to see a photo? I don’t think I have any since his last growth spurt. He’s like, five something now.”

“What?” Wash frowned and sat on the bed beside Tucker, sharing with him a concerned expression as if waiting for correction. “Five years or…feet?”

“Oh yea, let me explain some stuff…”

  
That’s how their night went. And the next, and the next over their trip home. Wash visiting his room and listening to the “illustrious” stories of Blood Gulch. Laughing at hi-jinks and very nearly bringing up the Freelancer’s own stories. It seemed painful for him and Tucker couldn’t imagine it. Losing everything like Wash had. Carolina too…Perhaps that’s why she kept Epsilon so close. Seemed fine with Caboose staying in her room just to be near Church. Tucker hoped it made her feel better about the whole thing. While Wash and he seemed to build, almost a friendship. Like a truce of understanding that they were sort of apart of one another’s lives. That twenty years from now they’d look back at the adventures and one another would be there. 

Tucker couldn’t say he hated it exactly.

Until they crashed of course.

And all there was left was Wash.

When Church left /again/. When Carolina and he walked off like the rest didn’t matter. Took three days to accept that Church wasn’t coming back and he shrugged Wash’s attempts at comfort with a mood. Didn’t want to hear it. It was their first meeting all over again. Things were fucked up and Wash was standing in the remnants. 

To make things worse Wash tried to play Leader. Pushed Tucker to train as if weeks ago they weren’t relaxed ready to go home. As if he hadn’t watched Washington fumble over coffee in the morning. Like nothing between them was equal anymore. It was Church all over again.  
  
The worst part was Caboose. Probably the only strength to their truce was their mourning team member. Caboose was the only reason they could stop fighting, pause in their ego battle to tend to the man. Try to make him smile. Take him for a walk or give him space. Time really helped Tucker guesses. 

They fought, then tried to repair damage. Tucker was an ass and Washington was patient. They tried…  
  
No they didn’t. Freckles just scared the shit out of them and startled them back into alignment. A bit. Mostly. Tucker couldn’t say he wasn’t glad for the jump scare. At least Wash and he were back to talking. They’d catch one another staring out of the corner of their eyes like jaded teenagers and Wash would attempt a joke. Tucker would laugh, even if it wasn’t funny, and they could relax. It seemed, ok to share space with the man again and Tucker felt comforted by his shape in the dark as they slept.   
  
Then Felix strolled in and brought war at his heels. Hovering at Washington’s side like a mosquito. It actually frightened Tucker to see the gray armor back, coating Wash with a certain distance. Grif commented on it to him in private but Tucker really didn’t know what to say.  
  
“Is he still Blue Team?” Caboose asked as they prepared for war and Tucker chewed his lip. Watching Felix orbit Washington with questions and ghost stories about Locus. The Feds and the Republic made into an epic before either really entered their lives. 

“I’ll follow your lead.” He told Washington in private, before the attack. Before everything was torn apart. “I trust you.”

“We’ll be ok.” Wash answered and counted off bullets for the two of them.

Then he thought Washington was dead and didn’t sleep for two days.  
Caboose couldn’t comprehend it. Insisted otherwise but from the way Simmons and Grif appeared–Tucker knew they thought the same about Sarge, Donut, even Lopez. 

Kimball was amazing. She was everything Washington told Tucker he could be and more. Everything Tucker knew he wasn’t. Strangely it made him try. He spent more time between Felix and Kimball than the exchange of goods for services rendered. He trained with vague memory of Washingtons’ suggestions. He needed to be better. Dreamed of Wash rolling his eyes and trying not to smile when Tucker did something ridiculous. He obsessed over his strength, his skills. Every practice lost to Felix was like a punch in the gut both figuratively and not. Losing time and time again. Beaten down by the cocky Merc.   
  
Felix was at least on their side. He could help them find their lost team mates. In a way he admired Felix, differently than he saw Wash. Here was a man who knew what he wanted and took the means to obtain them with a grin. He was confident and secure, never seemed to doubt himself or his abilities. Tucker wanted to be more like that. He wanted to be sure of success as well as the Merc. No other alternative. He wanted Washington to see him the way these starved for hope soldiers looked at Felix. 

“So. How long have Wash and you been together?”

Tucker, startled, took Felix’s heel to the jaw. Sent him crumbling to dirt and hacking spit.   
  
“What?” Gasped as the Merc hovered, watching with too keen of eyes at the red which dotted broken skin. “What did you say?” Tucker only noticed later upon reflection that Felix never helped him stand. Never offered help when he was beaten in training.  
  
“What, what?” The Merc shrugged and waited for Tucker to recover, hands raised for defense. “Oh c'mon Tucker. The way you two fluttered around one another. I couldn’t suggest that the weather was nice without you two looking at each other for confirmation.”

“He was training me.” Tucker advanced, trying and failing to land a hit “He’s my friend.”

“Hah, sure. Training you. I bet he was.” Tucker felt himself heated by the comment, his next attack left him just barely skimming Felix’s shoulder by knuckles. “Oh nice one. You’re better when you’re lying to yourself.”

“Dude shut up,” Tried to play annoyed, instead it seemed to feed Felix’s grin. 

Sometimes Tucker was super relieved Felix was on their side. 

“Oh god is this some sort of unrequited thing?” The Merc spat. Smacking Tucker’s spine when he shifted out of the way of an attack. Too quick. Tucker couldn’t keep up. “How fucking lame. If I’m ever in that situation, I hope I die bloody without having to deal with it like Wash.”  
  
“He’s not dead!” Tucker yelled and launched himself at the urge of instinct. A sudden energy forcing him forward, aiming for the smirking head and cruel words. It wasn’t even a good attack. Landed him choked and twisted over Felix’s thigh while the man held his throat tight. Deceptively strong, Tucker felt his heart pound in time with each bolt of pain down his spine from the difficult position. Of course he ran his mouth and made it worse. “You don'tKN-OW him! He’s not-Dead! They’re ok! He’s-Fine! And I’m gonna see –himagain!”  
  
“Oh yea?” Felix laughed against Tucker’s ear before letting him drop. Arm twisting behind his back. Shocking him with the pain as the Merc stood over him. Victorious and mocking with a stern expression he’s not seen in many good people.  
  
“Ye-s” Dizzy and unable to rise, Tucker just lay there swarmed with Felix’s mocking voice against his thoughts. “He’s. He’s ok.”

“And if he’s a corpse on the battlefield? What then?” 

“Shutup!” Struck with a heel to the soft of his waist, only Felix’s boot kept Tucker from curling in on himself. Loomed over like nothing more than roadkill. He was nothing compared to the Merc in this moment.

“Let me give you some advice Tucker. Because I think you’re at least a good person and those are the type who get their heads blown off trying to be heroes. Until you see Washington with your own eyes. Until you feel his fucking pulse beneath your fingertips, assume he’s dead.”

“No.” Tucker fought and Felix laughed at that, simply as if a child had disagreed with him.

“Look. If Washington is alive. Good. God knows we need all the help we can get. You can find him and run off to the sunset. Whatever. But if that’s what you believe, you’d best fight and kill every son of a bitch keeping you two apart.” The boot’s pressure lightened, then all together released. “If you want to protect him that is. It’s them or us. It’s them, or Washington.” Felix' voice carried the idea like gospel and never had Tucker seen the gun for hire leave such honesty in his words. "You have someone to keep safe, keep with you? Best learn quick people have to die to protect those you love." 

Tucker stayed up all night considering those words.

Made it easier the next few missions. When Felix and he left Federal soldiers lifeless or ruined-he thought about Wash. How many people he might have to go through to find the man again.

Tucker wished Church were there. Wished Carolina would appear over the horizon and save the day. But, waiting for someone to fix it all never seemed beneficial in the end. So. He fought. Stood by Felix’s side. Killed. Spoke at funerals and tried to remember every soldier he met. Their hopeful smiles and their admiration which fueled his guilt as he scribbled their names in his regret. He wasn’t a good soldier, but he’d try. 

Wash believed in him at least and Kimball needed him. Trusted him. He wouldn’t leave another person disappointed by his actions.

"Tucker?”  
  


“Wash?”  
  


“Oh-ho. That was a close one. Nice throw Tucker…”  
  


“That’s all I need to hear.”  
  


“Wait for me!”  
  


“Ugh! What just happened and why did it hurt?!”  
  


“–Is everyone ok?!”  
  


“You know, I never thought I’d be so glad to see you idiots again.”  
  
“Carolina?!”  
  
“That’s not all. Miss me assholes?”  
  


“YouFUCK!”   
  
  
It’s a rough start to their reunion.  
  
Tucker doesn’t know who to yell at first. Washington. Carolina. Or Church. (Ok he’s yelled at Church more than anyone but it’s pointless yelling at someone who can turn himself off).

He screams and screams inside his mind and can’t even appreciate Washington’s presence. They stick by one another without acknowledging it. Hover close when the next steps in their lives carry on. Wash is there when he wakes from nightmares about people he let die. Disfigured dreams with Felix kicking bones and laughing inside his skin. Guilt stacking up to outweigh logic and trust. He takes it out on Church, which is fine for the moment. He just wants to fight. He wants to put the blame on someone else. Tucker doesn’t want to feel responsible but Felix’s song keeps playing in his head.

Wash is there to steady his steps and remind him that they haven’t lost, yet.

He caused people to die. He failed. The guilt builds up in him. Terrible and steel against his mind. He won’t lose another person. He won’t bury a friend.

It’s probably why it doesn’t hurt when Felix runs him through with a knife. Though what keeps him standing is Church in his ear. Begging him to stay strong.  _Just a bit more. They can do this. They can /do/ this Tucker, just hold on._ Washington keeping Locus busy. Carolina staying low to let the Mercs believe there’s no viable threat.   
__  
Just hold on Tucker!  
  
The punchline is so good when it arrives. When Church darts off and Felix’s voice sings like an exposed devil from the curtain. Its ok that he’s lost feeling in his legs and his boots are filling with blood. It’s totally fine that he might actually die, because at least he did something right.   
  
The mercenaries aren’t defeated but its a good start when they shift out. Gray proving she’s actually the best there is when she manages to keep him alive long enough for the evac team. Why Kimball allowed Palomo to join the rescue group he can’t understand. But he’s dying, and yelling at the kid to stop crying doesn’t actually make him feel bad. In fact, and Tucker will never admit to this, he’s happy to know the kid survived the merc’s plan. 

Plus there’s Washington helping carry his stretcher to the compound so Gray can operate. And really, super duper loving the pain killers. Holy fuck he’d like ten more and a mojito please? Narcotic haze sparing him the immediate embarrassment when he tells Wash that he’s going to “kiss his face” later. Or when he tries to and Gray yells at him for moving during an operation. 

He does at least apologize for getting blood on Wash’s armor but Wash assures him its ok. Just asks him to lay still and try to sleep. 

Recovery is not fun. Neither is sitting back and realizing what they’re about to face. Stranded on a world over run by pirates like fleas. Two armies sharing a space still trapped by years of war and hatred that not even the truth can heal. 

Felix wasn’t lying, they hated one another longer before and the power struggle still drags them ten steps back and no where fast.   
  
Tucker has a new belly scar and frowns that it’s so near to where Doc cut in to pull Junior’s implanted cocoon thing out. He teases it too much, the scar aches from time to time. Limited medical supplies makes him wonder how people years ago survived gut wounds. 

Kimball checks on him and makes Tucker feel better, though they both share a mutual hurt. Felix left his scar on Tucker’s body, but he can’t imagine what the Republic leader feels. She admired him, and he tried to destroy her. Tucker can only offer condolences and what use he has left in him. That makes her smile at least.  
  
By the time he’s up and walking Wash has pretty much adopted the combined armies. Which makes sense. He’s good with making idiots feel like they can actually be worth something and Tucker wonders if all these starry eyed looks by the soldiers can even compete with his own. Though, the marvel lasts only moments when he watches Palomo and the other kids run laps. Sees soldiers barely twenty years old with prosthetic limbs. Names and dates painted on helmets to commemorate their fallen friends…  
  
He can see the weight of such realization beneath Wash’s eyes. A man who was once no more than a forced ally, just a helmet. Now someone who Tucker can hardly look upon without feeling heavy with emotion. It’s pretty damn annoying. Especially when Church brings up his sedated proclamation of love at the mess hall and Tucker has to chase a hologram across a room. 

It makes some soldiers laugh and eases the mood. Wash just hides his face in hands and Gray makes notes with a frightening intensity. 

There isn’t a “time of peace”. There are still missions, still people dying. There are supplies to be hoarded and inventory to guard. Bases reclaimed, lost, regained again. Battles to win, and lose. Soldiers to bury and new recruits to train. Tucker joined Carolina’s team as soon as he could carry his armor without a limp. Sarge too. It seems like a fun trip. 

“Hey,Tucker wait up,” Wash catches him before he can mobilize with the team. Sarge and Carolina arguing over whether or not the driver’s side should have a mounted gun. (Church hovering nearby feeding terrible ideas to the Red Team leader for the fun of it). Wash and he haven’t avoided one another. They still linger close at meetings. Still eat sitting near if their schedules allow it. While Tucker recovered Wash made sure to stop by and usher Palomo out if he could. Or just brought him snacks and news. It shouldn’t be awkward to stand alone with him now, armor shined and eager to get out there. 

Ready to protect what he can.  
  
“Yea, what’s up?” He’s slowly grown to hate how much he likes certain features on Washington. From sunny skin to the weight of freckles even darker across his nose. The gray at his temple only looked /good/ and if ears that size were meant to look “goofy”. Well. Wash made it work somehow. “What did Palomo do now?”

“Nothing,” It still floors him to hear Wash laugh. Carolina too, but when Wash does it…Tucker just feels for a brief second that nothing has ever, ever gone wrong. “I wanted to wish you good luck.”

“Oh, well thanks.” He tries not to think about what Felix said. The momentary fear that Wash was dead. “Good luck surviving the kids.” He jokes, hoping to free himself from bad memories.  
  
“Well honey, we’ll wait for you to come home.”

“Oh god did you just joke?!” Heart pounding just a bit more when Wash laughs again. This time hiding his smile beneath a hand. “Oh man don’t do that! It freaks me out! You’re supposed to be all big bad and tough.”  
  
“Tucker. You’ve seen me trip over my own boots. I don’t think that illusion exists anymore.”

“I am living in denial.” Holds hands in defense and it seems ok again. Joking like this. He feels, safe for the smallest moment. “You’re a scary Freelancer. You’re not supposed to be cute.” Wait. What did he just say? “Y-you know what I mean.”

Wash does this thing with his eyes which could bring Tucker to his knees. Makes him dwell over the moment he found Wash again. That second he could actually feel his pulse if he wanted to. 

“I know,” For a moment he thinks Wash is going to reach out and touch his armor where Felix buried his knife. Hands stretch and linger midair, just a flash, then back to his side. Awkward and yet almost tender. “Just. Be careful ok?”

“Yea,” Breathy. Whoops. Takes a step back before he falls into the man. “You too. I’ll bring something for the kids.”

“They just want you to come home safe.” 

“Tucker lets go!” Church uses Carolina’s speaker to bark out the order. Followed by a teasing “ _Ooooh_  what are you two talking about?” Before his partner can control him. She just shakes her head and waves Tucker over, giving a nod to Wash who returns in kind. 

“I’ll be back.” He assures, tapping his helmet in hand gently against Wash’s hip and moves back towards the waiting vehicles.

“Well that’s cute.” Church teases as Tucker settles in.

“Shut up.” Tucker tries not to keep an eye on Wash as the man lingers in the garage. Waiting for them to depart. 

“I think he likes you,”

“Church!”

“No. He’s right.” Carolina leans back in the driver’s seat, quick to smack Sarge’s hand away from pressing a nameless button. “He likes you. You should kiss him when you get back.”

“Oh my god,” Tucker groans, quick to shush her. “He might hear you!”

“Oh, that’d be too bad” Church flickers to life against the dashboard. “If somehow he…did…hear us….”

"Church.” Tucker warned. “Don’t you dar–”

“HEY AGENT WASHINGTON!” Church’s voice rings out over the speaker system. Frightening every soldier in the vicinity as Tucker swats viciously at the hologram. “YOU SHOULD KISS TUCKER WHEN WE GET BACK OK?”

“Church!” Tucker Squawks.

“Epsilon!” Carolina laughs.  
  
“Blue!” Sarge cackles.

“Ok!” Wash yells back.

There’s a small commotion as Gray shrieks from the overlook and Tucker swears he hears Grif saying “finally” somewhere, though the Red is nowhere to be seen. He’s far too busy hovering low in his seat and still trying to punch the Ai with no avail.

“Wait did he say yes?”

“I said yes.” Wash, suddenly at the side of the jeep and Tucker feels really bad about screaming when he’s tugged in for a kiss.

It’s short, crooked and entirely everything he actually was too scared to think about. Leaves him staring when Wash leans back and he’s as red as Tucker feels. 

“Now go kick their asses and I’ll see you when you get back.” Wash says, saluting Carolina, while Tucker is both frozen and awed. 

“Oh Great,” Church whines while Carolina starts up the engine. Guiding the small envoy out of the city and the safety of numbers. “Now he’s going to sing and dance when we fuck everyone up.”  
  
Tucker can only high five Sarge who rolls his eyes at the excitement. 

“You bet I am!” 

 

\---

 

[Follow me on tumblr for more gay space marines and terrible mercs](mercemonster.tumblr.com)


End file.
